Leunung
by Black.Rose.Authoress
Summary: The Bad Touch Trio decides to help Germany admit his feelings for Italy. #2 of TMAMT series.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is the sequel to my other story, "Desaparicíon." It's totally possible to read them separately, but it'll probably make more sense to read the other one first.

* * *

**Leugnung**

**Part 1**

The bartender shot the group an angry glare when they walked inside. Which was really quite rude. Honestly, you'd think he'd be a little more polite to his most loyal customers. So what if they'd gotten arrested in his bar only a week ago? They'd at least paid for all of their drinks before the cops had shoved them out of the door.

Besides, he should really be used to it by now. It's not like they were usually violent or too destructive. It was usually just public indecency, which really shouldn't be a crime when you were as awesome as they were.

Then again, he was one of England's citizens. That probably explained everything.

France, Prussia, and Spain wandered over to their usual seats and settled down, ignoring the dirty looks and obvious eye threats of 'I'm watching you'. France immediately noticed the new waiter. Hmm, cute… Very cute. The bartender muttered something in his ear, motioning with his chin toward the table. The man immediately nodded, grabbing a tray of drinks and heading over.

"Your drinks, sirs," he remarked quickly, setting the tray down.

France immediately flashed him an appraising look and then winked flirtatiously, causing a flush to break out over the young human's face.

"Still hitting on the waiter," Prussia remarked, as he grabbed his mug. "You know what happens when you flirt with them. We get kicked out even faster than usual. Besides, what makes you think that he's interested?"

"Mon ami, everyone is interested in moi." France grinned at him. "Besides, I feel lucky."

The albino nation snorted and tilted back his beer, eyeing him once he'd taken down enough to probably choke a normal human. "How about we bet on that?"

"With what?" France questioned curiously, as he glanced down at the beer, wrinkling his nose slightly. He'd much rather have wine, but there was little chance of getting anything like that in one of England's pubs.

"Hmm, how about that ex-colony of yours? The one with the maple syrup. Who always carries that bear around."

France hesitated for a moment, the vaguest memory flickering through his mind. Maple syrup…bear… "Mathieu!?" he gasped in shock. "Why would you want mon petit Mathieu?"

"Why not?" Prussia shrugged. "He's cute enough."

France snorted and shook his head. "You don't have any colonies to bet, mon ami, so I'm sorry…"

"How about Romano?"

Spain hadn't been paying them any attention until now, when his head jerked up so fast that it _must _have hurt. "What?! You can't bet Lovi!"

Prussia glared at him, sticking out his tongue rather immaturely. "We won't lose, so it doesn't matter anyway. The awesome me _never _loses bets."

Spain's eyes were wide in horror as he hurriedly shook his head. "No. No way."

Prussia sighed, realizing that he wasn't going to win. Stupid Spain, ruining his fun. "Fine, fine, we'll just use money. You're so unawesome sometimes, Tonio. You should really learn how to share."

France shook his head slightly at his friends, glancing back toward the waiter for a moment before he turned to the topic he'd called them together to discuss. "So, who agrees with me that Allemange and Italie need to resolve all of this sexual tension?"

Prussia snorted. "Who wouldn't want them too? They're almost as obnoxiously dense as eyebrows and the American idiot who can only dream of being as awesome as me. Or Tonio," he elbowed Spain in the ribs. "Only took us kidnapping you."

Spain flashed them a dirty look. He still hadn't entirely forgiven them for that stunt. Even if it had led to such a marvelous outcome…

France turned the conversation back to the topic at hand. "Then if we're agreed, I think we should make it happen."

"Really?" Prussia leaned across the table, swiping his mug and finishing the beer inside. France let him. The stuff was nasty anyway and he'd have to deal with the albino's complaining if he didn't. "And how are we going to do it?"

"Well, your brother is the only real problem, since he refuses to admit that he's in love with mon petit Italie. I don't think it should take too much work, though, to break him. We just need to make Italie the most desirable thing he's ever seen." He grinned mischievously. "You know all about what sorts of things he's into, right?"

"Of course. Like he could get away with having porn and not letting me see it."

"You think Italie will go along with it?" Spain questioned. "And—even if he does—what about Romano?"

France sighed and shook his head at his friend's hopelessness. "Obviously that's your job. Keep the cranky Italie distracted while we're working on Allemange."

Prussia seemed deep in thought as he stared down at his empty mug. Then he grinned, his smile predatory. "I think it's an awesome plan. And I know just to ask to help us. Westen will never know what hit him."

"Then we're agreed." France motioned toward the waiter and motioned for more beers, simultaneously slipping a piece of paper in the male's pocket and flashing him a bright grin. The boy flushed, sliding his fingers into the pocket before he turned and hurried to the counter to get their tray.

When he set it down, France immediately lifted his mug and grinned. "To l'amour!"

"My oblivious bruder!"

"Us!"

They all laughed, clanking their mugs together in a triangle before throwing them back.

"And now to get completely wasted!" Prussia laughed. "Bring on the booze!"

* * *

A/N: So this story is going to be GerIta with some Spero in the background. And "Leunung" means Denial. :D

It seems like, for some reason, my head!canon is convinced that the Bad Touch Trio = Matchmaking service.

I love these guys so much. The more I write them, the more I want to plot evil deeds with them.

Random Vocab:

Mon petit – my little  
Mon ami – my friend  
Allemange – Germany  
l'amour – love

The rest should be obvious.

As always, I love love love reviews :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Leugnung**

**Part 2**

"Ve~ Doitsu~ Doitsu, I'm hot. Doitsu~" A hand tugged on Germany's sleeve, startling him slightly from his thoughts. He'd been watching Spain and France out of the corner of his eye, noticing worriedly that they kept glancing over at him from where they were huddled in the corner, probably plotting something.

He glanced down at his watch. The meeting was still supposed to last for another half hour. Although, he rather doubted that most of the other nations would last that long. Most of the northern nations had declined the invitation to this meeting, deciding that attending a meeting in Texas in the middle of summer didn't sound like the best idea. Those who had come were all regretting it.

Italy had been complaining in his ear since they'd arrived, begging him to take him out for gelato and asking how much longer they had to stay. Romano, who was seated next to his brother, was fanning himself with their shared folder, cursing to himself as he glared in the direction of France and Spain. England was lying with his head on the table, possibly passed out. The only one who was even close to his usual perky self was America, and even he had taken off his usual bomber jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt.

Not that it stopped his attention-hogging. "…and we can just repopulate Mars with all of our endangered animals! Then, once the populations are high enough, we bring some of them back!"

China lifted his head from where he'd been staring down at the ground, probably attempting to cool himself by thought since some idiot had decided that it was pointless to invest in air conditioning for this meeting. "You are not sending my pandas into space, aru."

England rolled his head slightly so he could glance up at the American. "Git, I think that's your most stupid idea yet."

On a normal day, that sort of comment would usually start some sort of fight. It was weird when America just scowled down at the table, England returned to his unconscious position, and France completely ignored the chance to rile them up.

If nothing else, that definitely meant that he and Spain were planning something.

"Ve~ Doitsu? Can we go get gelato? Pleeease?"

"We're in the middle of a meeting, Veneciano."

"It's so hot," he whined, as he pouted and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest and gazing up at him with wide, puppy eyes.

It was absolutely adorable, he thought for a moment, before he hurriedly pushed the thought aside.

"What is that wine-bastard doing?" Romano muttered under his breath, probably not even realizing he'd said it out loud at first.

"Ve~ nii-chan?" Italy leaned over to try to follow his brother's line of sight. "They're talking, nii-chan."

"Why's that pervert talking to Spagna?" he muttered again, still glaring at them. Germany was pretty sure that he hadn't mentally figured out yet that he was actually having a conversation with his brother.

"Ve~ Aren't they best friends?"

Best friends…Oh, great…What if his brother were involved? Germany now had diverted all of his attention to the two, who were completely caught up in their conversation now and hadn't realized that they were being watched.

Gilbert had come home extremely late last night, completely wasted. Not anything too different than usual. He was still probably asleep in their hotel room; he hadn't even woken up to bother Germany by demanding that he come to the meeting. Germany would always refuse him, since he still wasn't over what had happened the last time that his brother had come to one of their meetings.

It wouldn't surprise him if the three were plotting something, but if so—what? And who was the target of whatever they were planning?

"Ve~ Is nii-chan jealous?" Veneciano suddenly questioned, as he leaned even closer to his brother.

Germany mentally prepared himself for the fireworks.

And of course he wasn't disappointed.

"WHAT?! Why would I be jealous about that idiot!?" Everyone at the table turned, startled by the sudden excitement. Even America stopped in the middle of a sentence and stared at the Italians. Romano was standing, flushing bright red, his hands already around his younger brother's throat.

Who in the world could have enough energy to strangle someone when it was this hot?

He started to stand, preparing himself to face the wrath of an extremely pissed Romano when he attempted to break them apart.

"Lovi~!" He was beat to it by Spain, who suddenly hugged the older Italian from behind. "Lovi~ leave your brother alone. It's not nice to strangle people, Lovi."

"Bastard, get off of me!" Romano shouted, although he did release his brother, who took the opportunity to run and hide behind the large German.

Everybody else just stared at them, not wanting to get involved in anything involving Romano, who was now screaming obscenities at the older nation. Spain didn't even seem to notice. Or, more likely, he was just so used to it that the cursing really didn't faze him. Instead he buried his head in the Italian's dark hair and murmured under his breath, "Te amo, Lovi. Sea agradable a tu hermanito."

"Fuck my 'hermanito', bastard."

"I am quite sure that Antoine would only be too happy to oblige," France suddenly inserted, as he walked over from his spot near the wall. "Although I'd never have expected you to ask him to do so. Unless you're up for un ménage à trois, I suppose."

Spain almost couldn't hold Romano back. "Ah, Lovi! Lovi! Don't try to kill Francis. He didn't mean it. He's just teasing you, Lovi!"

"I'm going to kill him! Let go of me, asshole!"

The chaos just escalated at that. America attempted to help Spain in holding Romano back, Russia laughed happily from his seat, Switzerland pulled out his gun and started threatening everyone with it, Japan attempted to regain order, England started cursing everyone out for being "bloody gits"… Germany suddenly felt a smaller hand wrap around his and he glanced down in surprise to see Italy staring up at him, grinning slightly, apparently not at all bothered by his brother's attempt at murdering him. "Can we go get gelato now?"

"I—" He glanced toward everyone else. He really was starting to get a headache from all of the noise. And it looked as if it wasn't about to calm down soon. Particularly since almost everybody had switched to their native tongue by now. Spain was attempting to calm Romano down by whispering Spanish into his ear—which interestingly enough, seemed to be working at least a little bit, Romano was still cursing at France in Italian, though. He just now seemed a little less reluctant to leave Spain's arms, even if it was to throttle the Frenchman.

Finally Germany just sighed and nodded once, hurriedly removing his hand from Italy's. "Yes, fine. Meeting adjourned!" He called. Only a few people even bothered to pay attention, more interested in the fight.

"Ve~! Gelato~!"

* * *

A/N: I'd just like to point out that it's very weird writing about people complaining about the heat when you yourself are absolutely freezing.

So I'm now done with finals and am home until January, so I should be able to finish this in no time, although I do think that it will end up longer than Desaparicíon.

Random Vocab:

Te amo. – I love you.  
Sea agradable a tu hermanito. – Be nice to your little brother  
un ménage à trois – a threesome (not necessarily sexual, but you know that's what France meant)  
gelato – basically an Italian ice cream

As always, reviews are loved loved loved. Nothing inspires me more than having lots of reviews. :D


	3. Chapter 3

**Leugnung**

**Part 3**

They hadn't been able to find gelato anywhere. It had been a little disappointing to Italy, but Germany had tried to make up for it by taking him to an ice cream parlour and letting him pick out whatever he wanted. So now he was sitting in front of a bookstore, licking at his three-scoop strawberry, chocolate, and cherry cone and kicking his feet back and forth as he watched Germany rummage through a cart of clearance books for something interesting.

He adored just watching Germany when he was relaxed. When his wrinkles smoothed out and he smiled faintly. It didn't happen very often, so when it did, he often found himself unable to look away.

He glanced over at him suddenly and then slid a book from the cart and under his arm. The movement seemed almost calculated, catching Italy's curiosity. He'd done it in a way that almost seemed as if he was trying to keep it hidden from the Italian.

"Doitsu? What book are you getting?"

"Um, just a book. Nothing you'd be interested in." Germany flushed slightly and pressed the book tighter against his side.

"Ve~" Germany was hiding something. Italy grinned slightly to himself. What in the world could he be hiding…and blushing over. He stood, eyeing the German as he continued to lick at his ice cream, attempting to surreptitiously change his angle so he could see the book's title. "I want to see the book, Doitsu."

Germany's blush darkened a tiny bit and then he suddenly turned around quickly and speed-walked into the bookstore, not giving the Italian even the tiniest opportunity to see the cover.

He pouted again. Not fair. Germany was always so secretive.

"Ooh, ice cream."

Italy was startled when a hand suddenly reached out from behind him and plucked his ice cream cone out of his hand. He whirled around, about to ask for it back…

"Gilbert!" he exclaimed instead, delighted at seeing the Prussian. He immediately launched himself at him, wrapping his arms around him in a way that was similar to what he usually did to Germany.

"Hey, kiddo. Haven't seen you in a while. What have you been up to?"

"Ve~ Making pasta! I created a new pasta sauce!"

"Really?" Prussia grinned as he took a bite from the ice cream cone. "I'd love to try it."

Italy's eyes instantly lit up. It wasn't often that somebody else asked him to make pasta for them. More often, they'd tell him to eat something different or please, stop using all of their drinking water to make pasta while they were in the desert. "Really, really? Ve~ I'd love to make it for you."

"Great. France and I were just over at England's house with Hungary and Japan. Why don't you come make some for everybody?"

"Yes!" He exclaimed excitably, practically jumping up and down in joy at the prospect of sharing his favorite dish. Then he suddenly frowned, glancing back toward the bookstore. "Ve~ But what about Doitsu?"

"Don't worry about Westen; I'll leave him a note." He suddenly reached up toward his head and pulled down a fluffy yellow chick that Italy hadn't even noticed was nestling in his hair. It chirped, obviously irritated at being moved.

"Alright, awesome Gilbird. You've got a very important job." He tugged a little scroll—which he had apparently been carrying around conveniently for this very opportunity—from his pocket and carefully tied it around the chick's neck with a ribbon. "Give this to my bruder. Be awesome and I'll let you bask in my awesomeness next time we go steal that pansy Austria's beauty mark."

"Ve~" Italy eyed the small chick with curiosity. "Can Gilbird understand you?"

"Of course, Gilbird is the most awesome chick ever. It's why I let him bask in my awesomeness." He grabbed the little Italy's hand and started tugging him away from the bookstore. "Don't worry, there won't be any problem. Now, you're making us pasta. But first, we're going to get more of this ice cream stuff, because this is almost as awesome as I am."

* * *

A/N: Fact – Gilbird is the most awesome chick ever. He can understand all languages! And Italy reminds me of a puppy. A very very overeager, excitable puppy… A very very overeager, excitable puppy who has no ability to sense danger. Prussia, France, England, Hungary, and Japan… Hmmm… ;D

So for every story/chapter I write, I end up creating a playlist that helps keep me inspire. I find it amusing that this one's is all 80's music…as was the prequel. The only problem with this is that I kept getting up to start dancing… Woohoo for spontaneous dance parties down in the kitchen at 1 in the morning. College has seriously messed with my head, I guess…

Reviews = Love! I'm sorry if I haven't gotten back to you. I got a little confused about who I'd replied to already. So if I haven't responded, know that I still love you :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Leugnung**

**Part 4**

"Veneciano?"

Great. He'd left the Italian alone for all of five minutes and he'd already wandered off. Not that he really should be surprised by now. He'd probably noticed an Italian restaurant, or pretty girl, or squirrel… Honestly, he could have seen a sparkly gum wrapper and wandered off after it.

Germany stood outside of the bookstore, twisting his shopping bag around his fingers nervously as he searched the surroundings for a sign of the auburn head. Honestly, if that Italian had gotten himself hurt or kidnapped or something, he was going to be incredibly angry.

Particularly as he'd just bought that book for him.

He flushed slightly at the thought. He wasn't sure what had compelled him to buy the book for the Italian. But, well, it was on sale and he'd thought it would—well—make him happy. And he liked to see Veneciano happy…

He hurriedly pushed the thought away. He had plenty of time to think about that later. For right now, he needed to focus on actually finding him and making sure that he hadn't gotten lost or fallen into a ditch or managed up stranded in the middle of the Mediterranean or whatever else he could somehow manage to do. Nothing would really surprise him at this point.

"Veneciano!" He called, taking a step out onto the sidewalk. A couple people glanced up curiously, probably not used to hearing a German man call out for an Italian, but then they looked away and continued on their way. He groaned and then sighed. "Feli!"

Still no response. And if Veneciano had heard him use his human name, he'd probably have come running in a matter of seconds with a bone crushing hug. Which meant that he had actually disappeared.

Okay, don't panic. He just had to think this through. And figure out what was making that annoying cheeping noi—

Wait a minute.

Cheeping?

Germany turned around to see a small, extremely fluffy, familiar chick sitting on top of the clearance shelves with a pink ribbon tied around its neck in a bow, a little scroll attached to the ribbon.

"Bruder…" He sighed, stepping over to rescue the chick from its spot on top of the books. It immediately started cheeping joyously and jumping up and down excitedly.

Even his chick was hyperactive. Prussia was a bad influence even on wildlife.

Plus, wasn't it a boy chick anyway? Not that he had any idea how you could tell, but Gilbert always referred to it as a 'he', so why was it wearing a pink ribbon?

Because this is Prussia we're talking about. That was all the answer anyone ever needed for why he had done something.

"All right, what have you got here?" He carefully slipped the scroll from around the chick's neck and rolled it open.

_Hey, Westen!_

_Your awesome older brother has kidnapped the cute little Ita-chan because you're a boring stick in the mud._

_MWAHAHA!!!!!_

_I'm taking him to Austria's house to use as a distraction so the frying-pan wielding devil-woman won't notice me stealing Austria's precious piano._

_Gilbert, the most Awesome Older Brother Ever_

…

Why was he surprised? Really, he should have been expecting that.

He sighed and stared at the chick in his palm, shaking his head slightly. "I should have been expecting that."

It just cheeped at him.

Well, he'd better go rescue Italy… Before Hungary managed to get him in a maid's outfit again.

Although…what was he supposed to do with this thing?

It stared up at him with beady black eyes, tilting its head as if wondering what he was doing.

Well, he wasn't letting it sit on his head. So he supposed the next best thing would be his shoulder, maybe? He slowly brought it to his shoulder. "I guess sit there until I find bruder?"

It cheeped for a few moments, probably confused, but then jumped onto his shoulder and nestled down in the fabric.

"Mommy! I wanna chickie too!"

Germany sighed and rested his palm over his face. There had to be a way to exchange older brothers somewhere.

* * *

A/N: …Just think of it this way, Germany-love. You could have Romano as an older brother.

I want a Gilbird now. I really really want a Gilbird. And I also want to leave a note like Gilbert's for someone.

Ah! Loves for everyone who has left reviews/favorited/read/whatever this story! You all make me so happy!

Sorry this one was so short, but I think the next one should be a bit longer…Maybe… I probably won't update again til after Christmas, although it's possible that I might. So if not, then MERRY CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE!!! Or happy holidays to anyone who doesn't celebrate Christmas :) I hope you all have a wonderful wonderful wonderful time. And consider this an early Christmas present!


	5. Chapter 5

**Leugnung**

**Part 5**

"So why did you bring Italy here again?"

England was standing in the doorway of the kitchen, rather irritably glaring at the room's occupants. He'd been in the middle of his afternoon tea when France and Spain had suddenly arrived at his doorway without any sort of explanation besides a 'we're high jacking your house'. Then they'd started pulling his kitchen apart, covering the counter with pots, pans, sacks of different types of pasta, tomatoes, a bunch of spices… And then Prussia had arrived at his doorway with an overly excited Italy.

Who was currently skipping around the kitchen joyfully, singing to himself in Italian as he set about making enough pasta to feed probably the entirety of the English, Spanish, French, and Italian armies. France was on his cell phone with somebody, suspiciously keeping his voice quiet, as if he didn't want England to overhear.

They'd better not be planning to do something stupid if it involved his house. He was not in the mood to deal with them right now.

Prussia glanced up from where he'd been reading some sort of magazine that he'd brought with him and grinned. "We're hiding him from Westen, so we couldn't keep him at my place and France would be too obvious and we need to keep Romano from finding about this or he'd flip so Spain's house is out too."

"You're hiding Italy from Germany? Why?" And more importantly, did that mean that he was going to get into trouble for this? He didn't really want to deal with an angry German right now.

"Because Westen is a stick in the mud who won't admit that he's all gaga, in love, all that romantic crap over him," Prussia answered.

"So you kidnapped Italy?"

Prussia nodded, looking overly pleased with himself. "It worked for Tonio!"

...Remind him why he talked to this idiot? He was probably going to get arrested again…But this time for kidnapping. Which was a lot worse than public indecency and disturbing the peace. "How do you think that this is going to help matters?"

"Simple! The frying-pan wielding devil-woman is coming over with Japan and they're going to turn Feli into somebody that even my stick in the mud brother couldn't resist! It's foolproof!"

England sighed. He doubted that. "Why couldn't you do this at Austria's house then, if Hungary's involved? I have nothing to do with this."

"Because that's where I told Westen I took Feli. It's called buying time." And sending his brother on an amusing wild goose chase.

France suddenly wandered back into the room, snapping his cell phone closed. "Hungary says that they're almost done with the outfit, but it'll still be a couple of hours. Which means that we have to keep Italie occupied until then."

"As long as he's got pasta, we should be okay."

France now turned toward England, a flirtatious grin passing over his lips. "Ah, Angleterre, I never got to tell you how lovely your singing voice is."

"Shut up, frog."

Prussia slipped to his other side and threw an arm over England's shoulder, grinning widely. "Aw, come on. We should go out drinking again soon. That was fun. Who knew you knew so many 80's hits?"

"I thought we'd agreed never to mention that again."

"Agree to come drinking with us again on Saturday and we've got a deal."

He glared between them. Yeah, and he already knew how that would end. With him in a jail cell somewhere…again…

They seemed to take the silence as an agreement and Prussia laughed, giving his friend a high five. "Great. This is gonna be awesome."

France laughed and took the opportunity to wrap his arms around England's waist, his fingers inching toward his belt. "And afterwards, we can always go back to my hotel room…"

England turned and offered him a warning smile. "Let go of me or I'm going to kick you in the vital regions, frog. You've already high jacked my house, I'm not in the mood to deal with you."

France paused for a moment, obviously trying to decide whether it was worth risking England's anger, then he released him and took a step back. "Bon, mon Angleterre." He was pretty sure that England wasn't joking right now and he wasn't really in the mood to deal with that sort of pain right now.

"Ve~ Gilbert?"

All three turned toward the door to see Italy standing with a huge pot of pasta.

"Yes, Feli?" Prussia questioned, shocked to see him there already. He couldn't be finished this quickly.

"I finished all of the pasta. Ve~ I should go call Doitsu to come eat it with us!" He immediately turned, heading toward the phone in the hallway…

"Wait!" France and Prussia both shouted at the same time, France grabbing Italy from behind while Prussia jumped in front of him to bar the way.

"Eh, why don't we do something fun, Feli?" Prussia had definitely not expected Italy to finish with the pasta this quickly. He hadn't really planned anything else to keep him occupied and not focused on Germany. So he picked the first thing that came to mind.

"Why don't we play fußball?"

* * *

A/N: Blah, not the most interesting chapter, but the next few should (hopefully) make up for it. Germany's chase across Europe searching for Italy, their attempting to keep Italy amused by playing football (soccer for us Americans), and Operation Distract Romano (which I haven't gotten into yet, but shall contain Spain and Romano cuteness) shall all commence soon ;D

On a random note, "You Give Love a Bad Name" came up while I was writing this and I'm like "This song is oddly appropriate to these fics." Not really for the words, but the title makes me think of the Bad Touch Trio and their matchmaking…

Random Vocab:

Fußball – football/soccer (according to the internet, at least)

MERRY CHRISTMAS to everyone!!! (Although I still technically have 3 hours left til Christmas…Close enough :D)


	6. Chapter 6

**Leugnung**

**Part 6**

Germany wondered if it was technically illegal to murder another nation. Actually, he wasn't even technically still a nation, so it really shouldn't be too much of a problem.

He hit the redial button on his cell phone hard enough to almost cause the screen to crack. His patience barely lasted him long enough to listen to it ring and then…

"HAHAHA!!! I'm totally awesome!!! And if that's you, Westen, HAHAHA!!! Of course I wouldn't make things that easy for you!!!"

He hung up after that and just barely managed to keep himself from throwing the phone across the lawn. He was now sitting on Austria's front stoop, plotting exactly what he was going to do to his brother when he saw him again. To say that Austria had not exactly been happy to see him when he'd shown up would be a rather grievous understatement. Apparently he'd interrupted the Austrian in the middle of a piano recital, so when he'd appeared at the door, obviously irritated, he'd listened long enough to hear Germany's semi-frantic questionings over where his brother and Italy were and then answered with, "You really think I'd let Prussia in here?" before slamming the door in his face.

Apparently Hungary wasn't even home, which left him without anybody else to question over where Italy could possibly be.

Germany sighed and stared down at his knees, where Gilbird was hopping around happily and chirping excitedly. "Glad to see that someone is enjoying this."

Well, since this was his brother's idea, then France and Spain were probably involved as well. He flipped through his phone contacts. Or attempted to…Apparently his brother had struck here as well, as he had just seen the name 'Psychotic Frying Pan Wielding Devil Woman' scrolling by.

He attempted Spain first. He was the most normal one out of them…If you could consider anyone who had fallen for Romano as being normal.

"Hola!~"

"Spanien, this is Deutschland and I—"

He was interrupted by the sound of scuffling over on the other end and then an unfortunately familiar voice yelled, "Tonio! I said not to answer your phone!"

"But what if it was Lovi?"

"That's what caller ID is for, idiot!"

"Bonjour," he was instead greeted by after a few seconds. That and the sound of heavy objects being thrown in the background.

"Where are you? Is Veneciano with you?"

"Oui! Italie is right in the kitchen finishing up his pasta. We were just getting ready to play a little friendly game of football."

The ruckus in the background paused for a moment and then Spain questioned, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. "We're what?"

His brother answered, just his voice sending the chick that had climbed up onto his shoulder into a fit of cheeping hyperness. "I asked Feli if he wanted to play fußball with us. Hey, why are you trying to run away! Quit struggling! You're part of this too!"

"No! No! Nobody mentioned that I'd have to play futbol with him!"

"What are you freaking about? It's just Feli!"

"Have you ever _played _futbol with him?"

"Well, no, but this is Feli. Little weak Feli."

"Bruder!" Germany shouted through the phone. He figured that France must have put him on speakerphone, but even if he hadn't, his voice should be loud enough for him to hear. "I want to talk to Veneciano!"

Prussia entirely ignored him, probably more interested in his argument with Spain, who had calmed down a little bit and was now stating, "Well, as long as Lovi doesn't know about it…"

"Eh, actually Feli called Romano just a few minutes ago to ask him if he'd come and play too. He sounded really excit— Francis! Get over here and hold him down!"

"With pleasure," France replied silkily. "I am quite sorry, but it seems that mon ami requires some assistance. Au revoir!"

"Wait! Don't hang—" Too late.

Damn it.

The chick was still freaking out, too. He could feel its sharp little claws as they dug into his shoulder. Honestly, he should just strangle the obnoxious little thing. That would definitely show his brother that he was serious.

Except that there was no possible way that he'd actually do something that cruel to his brother. Or to a chick. Even if he was semi-positive that his brother was teaching it things with the sole purpose of making his life more difficult. Like, how when it took a bath, it should do everything in its power to splash at least ninety percent of the water out of the bowl.

Who else could he call who might answer their phone? Not Romano. Unlike Spain, he was well-aware of the uses of caller ID and would never answer the phone if he saw that Germany was calling him. Didn't stop him from calling Germany himself all of the time to complain about his wurst and order him to stay away from his brother. And you couldn't ignore him when he called, because that just got him more irritated and then when you saw him next time, he'd attempt to throw a knife at your head.

He couldn't really think of anyone else who might know. Veneciano almost never had his phone on him as he'd forget it at someone's house or at home or let it die and forget to charge the batteries. He sighed and stood. Well, he could be pretty sure that his brother wouldn't have taken Italy to their house. So that left Spain or France's houses… Since they'd mentioned calling Romano, that probably meant they weren't at Spain's home since Romano practically lived there now.

Which left France. And if he wasn't there, then he'd have to just start searching through Europe.

This was going to be a long, long day…

* * *

A/N: That phone call amused me more than it probably should have. Haha, poor poor Spain. And Germany.

The Cupid Shuffle just came on…Now I'm watching the Hetalia characters dance to it in my head… I think this might possibly have just made my life… ;D


	7. Chapter 7

**Leugnung**

**Part 7**

"Quit trying to escape, Tonio!"

Francis was enjoying this rather immensely. Prussia had ordered him to hold Spain down as they waited for Romano to arrive, which France had translated into 'molest him to your heart's content until Romano arrives', which he was proceeding to do. It would be a bit easier, though, if Spain would stop attempting to escape.

"Dios mio…Vamos a morir. Mis amigos están tratando de matarme."

"Why are you so worried about this? We're just playing a friendly game with Feli and Romano," Prussia questioned curiously, as he knelt down in front of the Spaniard, who was now repeating the Lord's prayer to himself in Spanish.

"You've never played futbol con las Italias. Vamos a morir."

"It can't be that bad, can it?" He glanced at France, who was grinning lewdly to himself as he finally managed to completely pull Spain's belt from his loops. "Do you know what he's talking about?" Prussia had to admit, he didn't really know that much about the Italies. Definitely not as much as France and Spain, who had known them since they were child countries.

France paused for a moment and thought. "Mm, not that I can think of… My team has played against their team, but I don't think I've ever had the pleasure of being involved in a personal match against them."

"France-nii, are we going to play soon?"

The three all glanced up toward the door of the room, where Italy was standing in the hallway, decked out in his full football uniform. He glanced toward the half-dressed Spain on the ground and looked a little surprised, but then was distracted as Prussia stepped forward, grinning.

"Of course, Feli. Has your brother arrived yet?"

"Ve~ No, not yet, but he'll be here soon. Nii-chan loves to play calcio."

Spain whimpered.

"Oi! Bastard Spagna!"

Spain immediately covered his head with his hands and began to mumble the prayer again under his breath.

Romano walked into the room, carrying a football in his arms and wearing the most uncharacteristically happy grin that they'd ever seen. He was beaming almost as brightly as Spain did on a regular basis…

Not that Prussia would admit that he was a little unnerved by the Italian, because that would be totally unawesome, but that smile was a better sign of painful things to come than any of his actual threats of painful things to come.

Not that he was scared. At all.

"So, who are the teams?"

"Ve~ nii-chan. We need to make them fair."

"Then you and me versus all the rest of them?"

"Hey!" Prussia stepped forward and glared down at the two Italians. "Don't underestimate the awesomeness of us!"

"Why don't you have Angleterre play on your team? He's a decent football player," France offered from his seat on top of Spain, who had seemed to resign himself to his fate and was now scratching out what looked like a will on the floorboards. Something that England would probably not be especially happy about.

"Yes, that would make— Wait a minute, where did he even go?" Prussia turned curiously toward France, who was now looking at the ceiling and whistling in an incredibly suspicious fashion.

"Quoi? Angleterre was being uncooperative."

"We need him if we're going to make the teams even! The awesome me needs to at least make the teams a little more even, no matter how futile that may be. Where is he?"

"Bedroom. Here." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, silver key, which he tossed to Prussia. "You'll need this."

Prussia didn't even look surprised by the key. He just grabbed it and ran upstairs.

For a few moments, there was complete silence in the room, besides Spain's scratching against the wood and Italy's happy humming. Romano was just standing with his arms crossed over his chest, smirking off into the distance, obviously exceptionally pleased.

And then there was a torrent of cursing and the sounds of feet racing down the stairs. France glanced up for a moment, opened his mouth to speak…

And was suddenly thrown against the wooden floor by an incredibly angry, incredibly naked Briton.

"How dare you, fucking frog! How dare you fucking handcuff me to my fucking bed! I'm going to fucking break your face in." Spain, who had been freed from France's weight by this sudden intrusion, leapt to his feet and started toward the door. Which was, however, blocked by a grinning Romano, whose smile only widened as Spain froze in horror.

"Spagna~ why are you trying to run away? It's just a nice, friendly game of calcio."

"Ve~ Ve~ Spain-nii is going to play with us, right?"

"O—of course," Spain replied, taking a step backwards nervously. "Just—just a nice, friendly, safe game of futbol, right?"

"Of course, Spagna~."

"Ve~! Spain-nii is going to play with us!" Italy jumped up and down excitedly and then turned toward the other three members of the group. England had managed to get his hands around France's throat and was attempting to kill him, while Prussia was yelling at them to quit it and get ready to play.

It took about ten minutes to regain some semblance of order. Prussia, with Spain's help, finally managed to pull a flailing, cursing England away from France and convinced him, after pointing out that he could play on the Italies team and therefore against France, to play with them. He then left, finally realizing that he'd come downstairs completely naked and returned a few minutes later, blushing, but dressed in his home football uniform.

Then they had to drag Spain outside and to the football field. Which consisted of a few minutes of useless coaxing and then finally France and Prussia just dragging him outside.

"All right." Prussia stood at midfield and grinned back at the other two. Spain was standing in his spot at defense, France in the goal. Romano faced him, Veneciano behind, and England standing in the goal, glaring across the field at France, who threw him a kiss. "So we'll play to ten points."

Romano grinned, dribbling the ball between his feet as he glanced back at his brother. "Only ten? But that's so short. How about twenty?"

Prussia smirked down at the shorter nation. "You really want to suffer through twenty points of the awesomeness? All right, if you're sure."

"We're quite sure."

"All right then." Romano set the ball in between the two and continued to smirk down at it, as Prussia called so the goalies could hear. "First to twenty wins the match. Ready, set…"

He had barely said go when Romano was gone. Along with the ball. Prussia just stared in shock at where he'd been and then turned to see Spain hiding behind France, who was turned around in the goal, staring in shock at the ball that was now resting innocently against the back of the net.

"Point one," Italy called out. "Yay, nii-chan~!"

And that was when Prussia started to feel like he'd just made a terrible mistake.

Twenty points went by much faster than Prussia had ever imagined possible. Spain spent the entire game cowering at the edge of the field, attempting to stay as far away from the action as possible. Romano, Veneciano, and England all started playing offense, while Prussia and France attempted desperately to stop them from scoring. It probably would have been easier to stop a train by throwing a penny at it.

Romano and Veneciano made the perfect team. They both were incredibly fast. Most of the time one of them would get possession right off the bat, slip around Prussia's arms, and then race down the field to kick the ball at a speed that would have broken France's arms if he attempted to catch it. After about ten of these shots, Prussia finally managed to gain possession and started dribbling down the field toward England.

And then he was flying forward onto his face. One leg tripped by an untied shoe, the other leg giving out at a hard kick in the shin, his ribs smarting as an elbow jabbed into his side…

"Sorry, Prussia-nii~" a much too happy voice called out from in front of him.

"Pass me the ball!" England suddenly called. Prussia glanced up, feeling the start of blood dripping down from a nose possibly broken by the impact, to watch as England dribbled down the field, his eyes glinting with unconcealed excitement. France started, held up his arms in an attempt to stop him. And then received the impact of a ball flying with a few centuries worth of hate behind it.

He went down like a brick.

"Do you surrender?" Another pair of shoes paused in front of him. These quite possibly prepared to kick him in the face.

Prussia's gaze slowly traveled upwards to rest upon Romano's triumphant face. Then he glanced back toward the rest of his team. England and Spain were both now standing next to France, probably checking to make sure that he wasn't actually dead. If he wasn't, he still was probably going to be unconscious for most of the day. He glanced over toward Italy, whose normally sunny expression was brighter than he'd ever seen. And Romano, who looked as if he were considering all sorts of fun new ways to torture him.

Prussia groaned and dropped his head back onto the dirt. There are certain times when even the most awesome being in the world knows that he's licked.

"All right, I surrender. You win."

* * *

A/N: I would just like to point out that this scene was completely and utterly pointless… Also one of my favorites to write. Evil Romano and Veneciano are fun to write… So is terrified Spain. Although when I was writing the scene where Romano and Veneciano are asking Spain to play with them, I kept imagining the twins, Hansel and Gretel, from Black Lagoon. Which rather creeped me out.

Sorry it took so long to get this out. I've been super busy and sick and blah. But it's a super long chapter, so hopefully that makes up for it, at least a little bit. I apologize if I got any soccer terms wrong, I know that some are different depending on what country you're in. I used American terminology so, yeah… Hopefully that doesn't cause confusion.

Random Vocab: (I apologize for any inaccuracies. I myself am only fluent in English and only managed to get six semesters of Spanish in high school, so I'm going by what the highly inaccurate internet tells me. Sigh…)

Dios mio…Vamos a morir. Mis amigos están tratando de matarme. – My God, we're going to die. My friends are trying to kill me. (Not positive about the grammar, but the words are all right.)  
Quoi – What?  
Calcio – soccer

Thank you for all the reviews!! They make me uber happy! :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Leugnung**

**Part 8**

France was lying on England's couch, moaning in pain, an ice pack set against his forehead, where he was nursing a goose egg the exact size and shape of a football. England was leaning against the nearby wall, eyeing his rival with an expression that was slipping between sympathy and one that was stating 'you totally deserved that'.

Prussia, meanwhile, had a tissue pressed against his nose, which thankfully was not broken, but was refusing to stop bleeding. He was glaring at Spain, who in turn was eyeing Romano warily. The Italians were both sitting on the couch, sharing a bowl of pasta that should have been enough to fill an entire family of eight.

It was rather obvious that a few forces were playing opposition in Spain's brain. There was the part of him that was screaming "Lovi!!" and wanted nothing more than to attach to the older Italian and hopefully get a few kisses out of the bargain too. However, there was also the side that was still semi-terrified of him and was just hoping that Lovi didn't suddenly turn around and decide to kill him. He still had that incredibly happy, borderline psychotic grin on his face, even while eating pasta.

"Lovi~" Spain finally called, his voice still wary. And he remained standing in his corner. So it was kind of like a half-giving in to his first desire, but mostly going with the fearfulness.

Romano glanced up, their eyes meeting for a second. Then he hurriedly turned back to the bowl, poking at one of the meatballs in the sauce.

"Ve~ nii-chan! You already ate five of them!"

"So? I'm the reason we won."

It was quite possible that it would have escalated into a fight. However, they were suddenly interrupted by the sound of a soft tap against the door and then an "Igirisu-san?"

Prussia immediately leapt to his feet, groaning as the movement caused pain to shoot up into his head. "Ow…fucking bastards…"

Both Italy and Romano turned curiously toward the door, Italy jumping up after a second and running toward the doorway, calling out "Giappone!"

Romano took the chance to spear the rest of the meatballs on his fork and begin eating them. Not really caring that Japan was at the door. He only reacted when the door flew open and Italy screamed in excitement. "Nee-chan!"

Then he stared in the direction of the doorway in surprise. "Huh? Why is she—"

"Hey, Tonio." Gilbert was suddenly at Spain's side, elbowing him rather painfully in the ribs. Probably to get back at him for ditching the team during the game. "Didn't you have something to show to Romano upstairs?"

Spain just stared at him. "Qué?"

"Remember? Up in the guest room? Weren't you going to take him up there? You know. Alone~?"

Spain continued to stare at him.

Prussia groaned and grabbed his wrist, walking over to the couch and lifting Romano to his feet as well. Almost causing him to drop the bowl; he just barely had time to set it on the coffee table in front of his seat.

"Hey! What are you doing?" He exclaimed, as he struggled to release himself from the Prussian's grip. "Let go of me!"

Prussia just ignored him, still rather irritated at the defeat, and instead dragged both up the stairs and to one of the empty guest rooms, shoving the irritated Italian and reluctant Spaniard into the room and slamming the door in their faces. "Have fun!" He called, as he used a large, heavy key to lock the door from the outside and then slid it into his pocket. He paused for a moment to listen as the Italian screeched obscenities in a mixture of at least ten different languages.

He was actually impressed.

After a few seconds of admiring the older Italian's vocabulary, he wandered back downstairs, where the frying pan-wielding devil-woman and Japan were standing in the entry way. Both holding huge bags. Multiple huge bags.

Both were also distracted by Italy. Hungary was returning his exuberant hug with one of her own and was squealing over how cute he was. Japan was watching the proceedings with vague interest. Maybe. It was rather difficult to read the stoic nation's expression most of the time. Even for the awesome Prussia.

"So, you brought everything?"

Hungary flashed him an irritated glare and started to reach behind her. To where her frying pan was probably hidden, no doubt. But then she apparently decided that he hadn't done anything yet to warrant her bashing him over the head with it.

"Yes. How long do we have until he gets here?"

"He'll eventually think to come here, but it'll probably take him a while. He'll probably think that Arthur here would never agree to kidnapping."

England, who had followed the voices to the door, not happy at the arrivals of more people in his home, retorted with a "not like I had a choice." At least it was just Hungary and Japan. They weren't very likely to destroy his house.

"Did you set up cameras in the room where you locked the other two?" Hungary questioned Prussia, who was still giving her a suspicious look.

"Of course. You've got the payment?"

"After I see the footage."

Italy glanced between them curiously. "Ve~ what footage?"

Hungary smiled and patted his head. "Nothing, Feli. Now, Japan and I brought over some clothes for you to try on. Why don't you come with us and we'll see if they fit?"

Italy stared between them for a moment and then grinned brightly. "Ve~ of course, nee-chan!"

* * *

A/N: HAPPY NEW YEARS!!!! And as your New Years gift, Hungary and Japan FINALLY showed up!! And because I keep getting review after review and it's making me ridiculously happy, I give you another chapter within a day!! Plus the fact that I am ridiculously buzzed…on non-alcoholic sparkling grape juice. Heck yeah, I'm awesome. ;D Course, I've drank like five glasses of it.

Anyway, back to the chapter.

I am so sorry that there is like no consistency with what Italy calls the other countries. *goes to cry in a corner* I've been trying to be at least somewhat consistent with everyone else, but I just kind of gave up on Italy. So I'm sorry. *holds out a box of Krispy Kreme donuts* If I give you some fatty American treats, will you forgive me?

I haven't decided yet if I'm going to write what happens with Spain and Romano in the locked room or if I'll just leave it to the reader's imaginations… Depends if it fits, probably.

Oh, Italy, you're so cute and naïve. And I'm sorry that this chapter isn't very interesting. I had to get Japan and Hungary there… The next chapter shall involve more of Germany's frantic searching. Go, Germany, go! We're all rooting for you!

Random Vocab:

Giappone – Japan  
Nee-chan – Big sister  
Igirisu - England


	9. Chapter 9

**Leugnung**

**Part 9**

Gilbird apparently liked buses. If the insane cheeping was any sort of hint. The other people on the bus, however, did not appreciate his enthusiasm, as they kept shooting Germany incredibly irritated glares.

"Nein, Nein," he hissed to the bird, which was sitting on his leg and cheeping about every two seconds. "You need to be quiet."

It ignored him. Yep, it was definitely his brother's bird, and just started to jump up and down, the sharp claws digging into his leg at every hop.

His brother probably sharpened its nails, too.

The bus finally stopped and Germany slowly stumbled out, attempting to ignore the applause that erupted behind him at his exit. He was exhausted. He was exhausted, irritated, and was only a few cheeps away from strangling the chick. Cuteness or not.

And he wasn't entirely sure where he was anymore.

He glanced around the area, his mind too exhausted to even figure out what language the signs were in. Not German, not English. The letters didn't even look familiar. So either he was in some country that used a different alphabet, or he was so tired that his brain was slowly shutting down. He almost wanted to accept the second one.

But that's when he suddenly noticed something odd. Gilbird had stopped chirping. It had stopped chirping and was now attempting to burrow into his shoulder. And it was trembling, while rustling out its feathers in an attempt to look bigger.

"Hey, what's wrong?" He was shocked by the sudden change. What in the world? It seemed frightened. But what was it frightened of?

He glanced around, staring more closely at the signs. The letters definitely looked vaguely familiar.

The bird's shivering only increased, so Germany hurriedly slipped it off of his shoulder and held it in his palms in an attempt to calm it down. It seemed to help a little bit, at least.

He was starting to feel a little nervous, himself, though. Which was abnormal. Even when in other country's territories, he usually felt perfectly fine. Except for…

"Germany came to become one with me, da?"

He shuddered slightly. Damn it.

He turned, drawing the chick slightly closer, to see Russia standing behind him, a bright grin set across his face as he stared down at the other nation. Great. Of all the places that he could end up, he had to somehow make it to Russia.

"Good evening, Russia." At least attempt to act civil. "I was actually looking for someone."

Russia cocked his head slightly to the side, the grin never changing. "And who would that be, da?"

"Mein bruder." He flashed the Russian an irritated glare at the words. He still hadn't forgiven the bastard for taking Gilbert for all of those years after the Second World War. Even Gilbird seemed to remember, as it was now hiding as close to his body as it could and was trembling just as badly as Latvia did when around the huge nation.

Russia just continued to smile, although he began to tap that constant metal pipe against his hand as if having fond memories of using it. "And why are you looking for your brother?"

"He took Italy somewhere and is refusing to tell me where he is. I've already been to see Austria, Hungary, Poland, I almost got shot by Switzerland, France and Spain are off with my idiot brother wherever he is. Apparently so is Romano. I can't think of anywhere else that he could be."

He was mentally running through the rest of the countries in Europe. He had that annoying tingling in the back of his mind that was telling him that he was forgetting someone. Someone obvious…

Russia, or more particularly Russia's pipe, was making it difficult to concentrate, though. Along with the chick shivering in his hands.

"Why did you steal your brother's bird, da?"

Gilbird cheeped nervously as Russia moved closer to stare at him. Germany took a step backwards automatically.

"I didn't. He left it with a note for me."

Russia continued to stare at it for a few minutes, during which Germany glanced back toward the bus stop. He was half considering attempting to hitchhike back to Germany if another bus didn't show up in the next few seconds.

"It's the same color as sunflowers, da?"

Germany hurriedly took another step backwards and glanced down toward his wrist. "Oh, look at the time. I really should go keep looking since Italy obviously isn't here."

"Why so soon, da? You can come and have vodka with me."

"Nein, nein. I still have lots of places to look."

"Has Germany gone to visit the little island yet? He likes vodka."

Germany stared at him in confusion. Little island? Who did he—

Oh.

Oh.

He was an idiot. An absolute idiot.

He immediately turned around and started walking away. There had to be people heading toward Germany. And if all else failed, he supposed he could call his boss and ask him to send him some sort of transportation.

"Germany will come back later and become one with Russia, da?"

Just as long as he got half of a continent between himself and this guy as soon as possible.

* * *

A/N: I think Germany is really really really out of it if he somehow ended up in Russia. And awww, poor Gilbird… *cuddles Gilbird* I won't let the scary Russia-san hurt you.

First attempt at writing Russia. I hope that I didn't do too bad.

And I'm not sure how Germany could totally forget England. I blame it on the fact that he's a little island and Germany's thinking more of continental Europe.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for all the reviews!! I absolutely love them! They pretty much make my day :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Leugnung**

**Part 10**

"Ta-dah! And outfit number thirteen!"

Hungary threw aside the curtain to reveal her next creation. She couldn't remember the last time she'd had this much fun. Austria hadn't let her play dress-up with Italy since he'd realized that he was actually a boy.

Three pairs of eyes widened in various states of shock and, particularly in France's case, blatant lust.

"Fuck," was all that England could think to say.

"That's just what I was thinking…" Prussia agreed.

"Ve~ nee-chan. Why am I wearing a dress?"

Japan eyed Italy without any obvious emotion, although he did pull out a camera and snap a picture. "Here we have our French maid outfit." He paused and then pulled a headband from his pocket and slipped it onto Feli's head. "With kitty ears."

France attempted to stand up, his eyes glinting. "Très mignon. Why doesn't the cute little Italie come let big brother France show him all the best things about that dress?... Ow!"

Hungary clenched her frying pan tightly in her fist and glared down at France, who was now rubbing at his head, where another bump was forming to match the one bestowed upon him by England. "Don't even think about it."

Prussia grinned, obviously pleased at having someone else be on the receiving end of the frying pan-wielding devil-woman's frying pan of doom.

Italy was spinning around, apparently amused by the way that the skirt of the dress flared out when he twirled. Not noticing that it also happened to give the others a view of the lacy panties that Hungary and Japan had also brought for him to wear.

England hurriedly turned away, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and holding it to his nose. "I—I'm going to go get some—um—tea—yes, I'm going to get tea now," he stated, before rushing out of the room and heading towards the bathroom.

"Ve~ Why are we playing dress up?" Italy suddenly questioned, pausing as he adjusted the headband, which had begun to slip as he twirled around.

"We're playing dress up for my stupid stick-up-the-ass brother," Prussia replied, as he circled around Italy in a manner that was rather reminiscent of a vulture. "I like this one. Very very cute. I think England and France would agree, but I'm not sure…" He suddenly snatched Japan's bag from his hands and started rummaging through the contents. Most of which were covered with a ridiculous amount of lace and ribbons.

"Hey, wait. What's this?"

He tugged at some fabric at the bottom that didn't match the rest and, after a few minutes of fighting with it, pulled out a pair of black, leather pants. Shiny black leather pants. Shiny black leather pants that he could just tell would be tight in all of the right places.

"Fuck! Why haven't you put him in this yet?"

Hungary looked at it for a moment, and then glanced at Japan. "We brought something like that?"

"Well, yes," he admitted rather reluctantly. "I thought that it might be useful as something different."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Japan glanced down at his camera. "No reason." Because he'd wanted to see Ita-chan in all of the other outfits first…

"Okay, then let's put this one on him." She grabbed the bag and closed the curtain again, shutting herself behind with Italy.

Prussia pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at the messages. Quite a few missed calls from his brother, a few texts from Austria complaining about how Germany had interrupted his piano practice earlier because he was looking for him, a few from various other nations asking him what the hell was going on, one from Romano that was threatening to cut his balls off if he didn't unlock the door, and then one (written later) by Spain which simply said "thanks" with a winking smiley face next to it.

Which most likely meant that Hungary was going to like the footage he'd gotten her.

"Oh! Italy~! That looks so good on you~!"

And then the curtain was thrust open with another "Ta-dah! Outfit number fourteen!"

For a few seconds, no one moved. All they could do was stand and gape.

Until England stepped back into the room, tucking his slightly bloody handkerchief into his pocket. "Tea isn't quite ready ye—" Then he glanced up and froze, his mouth remaining open in shock, before he hurriedly pulled the handkerchief back out and darted back out of the room.

Which woke the others up. Japan immediately started snapping with his camera, moving to get shots from different angles. France jumped up and was at Italy's side in a moment, cooing to him in French while sliding his hands everywhere that he could reach.

"Perfect!" Prussia screeched in excitement, as he joined France on Italy's other side, throwing in a few gropes of his own. "This is absolutely perfect! I knew that my awesome plan would work!"

And then he went down with a frying pan to the face. France immediately yelped and returned to his spot on the couch, eyeing Hungary warily.

She just acted like nothing had just happened. "Germany is going to love this, Italy~!"

Italy immediately grinned brightly. "Ve~ Doitsu will like this?"

"Of course. He'll absolutely love it!" Her grin suddenly slipped into a slightly more predatory smile. "And Ita-chan, when he shows you how much he likes it, you'll let me videotape it, right?"

"Ve~ of course, nee-chan!"

Prussia, who had long ago gained a remarkable ability to bounce back after receiving blows to the face, slowly stood and eyed Italy again, this time keeping far enough away that Hungary wouldn't beat him again. "His pose isn't really sexy enough, though. Not for that outfit." He rooted around the bag again and then grinned evilly. "Here, this is perfect." And he pulled out a whip.

Hungary stared at Japan in shock. "You brought a whip?"

Japan just continued snapping pictures, pretending to not have heard her.

Prussia took a few steps closer to Italy, watching Hungary out of the corner of his eye, as he handed the whip to Italy. "All right, so what we're going to do is put Italy in one of the guest rooms. Preferably far away from where Spain and Romano are… And let's see… We'll have him pose with the whip. And if Westen doesn't decide to immediately seize his vital regions then and there, then he's a robot and we shall proceed accordingly."

"Shouldn't you ask Italy if he wants to 'have his vital regions seized' first?" Hungary questioned.

Prussia just stared at her uncomprehendingly, as if the idea had never occurred to him. Why wouldn't Italy want to have his vital regions seized by his brother? Well, unless he'd rather have them seized by the awesome Prussia. But he could do that anytime.

"If I wear this, then Doitsu will finally admit that he likes me?" Italy suddenly questioned, glancing between the two.

"Aw, Italy, I'm sure that Doitsu would like you no matter what you wore—"

"Most definitely. Unless he's a robot. Which would explain some things."

Hungary flashed Prussia an irritated glare, which he flinched away from. A frying pan usually came at the end of that glare.

"Ve~ so how am I supposed to pose?" Italy suddenly questioned, a rare determined spark suddenly flashing through his eyes. "Like this?" He stood with his booted feet shoulder width apart and his hands behind his back in a position that he'd often seen Germany in.

"Nice, but you look too stiff. Give me something that says 'Come here, you naughty boy, and let me punish—' OW! I wasn't doing anything, you bitch!"

"Ve~ So…" Italy thought for a moment, flicking through his memories. He'd stumbled across some of Germany's adult magazines before and he could remember some of the poses and one of them had involved a whip. So if he just…

He suddenly smirked, startling the arguing Hungary and Prussia into silence as they watched him narrow his eyes into a half-lidded, smoldering look while keeping that teasing smirk over his lips. Then he brought the whip to his lips and slowly, sensually ran his tongue along the wooden handle. "Ve~ Doitsu," and even his voice was smoother, practically dripping with unrepentant sex appeal. "I've been waiting for you…"

He probably would have been jumped by at least four different people in the next second if it weren't for the fact that a loud thump startled them all out of whatever gutter they'd fallen into.

Five pairs of eyes turned to the front door to see Germany lying face down in the hallway with Gilbird cheeping in panic on top of his head.

Apparently seeing Veneciano with that sort of expression on his face, while dressed entirely in skin-tight black leather and while holding a whip between his glove-clothed hands had been too much for his already mentally-exhausted mind.

"Hey, look! Westen finally found us!"

* * *

A/N: That…was…SO MUCH FUN!!! Haha, even if you don't enjoy it, I had so much fun writing this chapter. Oh, Japan. You perv…and Feli could totally be sexy if he tried hard enough. He's Italian, after all! And all of the innuendo was incredibly entertaining. Ah…This is one of those moments when I really really really wish I could draw. I want a picture of Ita-chan in his outfits!! *little sniffle*

And I had to put in the nosebleed joke…and the "seizing vital regions" because I find that phrase absolutely hilarious. And I wish that people would get nosebleeds like that in real life. It would be so entertaining ;D Well, you know. As long as you yourself were somehow immune.

Uh oh. Poor Germany… Ita-chan's sexiness is too much for him. *evil giggle* I feel like I'm so cruel to poor Doitsu. *pats Germany on the head* I'm sorry, Doitsu. You're too much fun to torture. Woohoo! I'm finally getting to the actual GerIta part after…10 chapters… *utter failage*

Random Vocab:

Très mignon – very cute

Thank you so much to everyone who reviews! Gah! You make me so happy!!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Leugnung**

**Part 11**

Ow…

Was the room supposed to be moving around like that? He was pretty sure that chandeliers weren't supposed to do figure eights when you looked at them.

Wait a second. Where was he? He didn't remember having chandeliers in his bedroom. Unless his bruder had decided to redecorate again… Although chandeliers didn't really seem like his thing. More like hanging the Prussian flag all over the place like he did whenever he started feeling down about being dissolved. Germany had decided to not complain about it, since it seemed to keep his mood up… and seeing Gilbert depressed was just too uncharacteristic for him to feel comfortable with.

"Doitsu~ are you awake?"

Germany groaned and moved his head slightly, attempting to focus on something besides the chandelier doing gymnastics. It took a while, but eventually he managed to push the thought through his mind that he was looking up at a person. A person who was staring down at him with wide, worried, amber eyes.

"Ve~ Doitsu?"

He moaned and shook his head slightly, attempting to scatter his brain cells back into place. What in the world had just happened? He'd finally made it to England's house after what seemed like days and days of searching. He'd walked up onto the porch and found the door unlocked. He'd…walked in…ready to punch his brother right in his smug, egotistical mouth…and then…

Mein Gott…

He'd seen Feli doing…something that he'd prefer not to think about…to a whip, while dressed in an outfit that…

He must have been dreaming. There was no way that sweet, innocent, little Veneciano could ever look so…so…

Seductive.

He shook his head again and then pulled himself to a sitting position. Yes, that had definitely been a dream. Just a product of exhaustion…

"Doitsu~!" He was suddenly tackled from behind and almost fell forward onto his face.

"Veneciano," he replied, sighing. "Where have you been all this time?"

"With Prussia-nii! We went to get ice cream and then we came here and I made pasta and then nee-chan and Giappone came and we played dress up so Doitsu would like me!"

"What?" And then Germany turned around curiously and felt all of the blood rush away from his face.

He hadn't been dreaming.

Damn it...

Granted, Italy now had his usual expression of ditziness mixed with a bit of concern and joy that his best friend had finally woken up. But he was _still _wearing that outfit. Those sinfully-tight pants tucked into black leather boots, a black leather vest… Thank God he had gotten rid of the whip.

"Is Doitsu feeling better now?"

"What are you wearing?"

"Ve~?" Italy glanced down at himself as if unsure what Germany was talking about. "Nee-chan and Giappone brought clothes for me to dress in. They said that Doitsu would like it. Ve~" and now he sounded like he was about to cry. "Ve~ does Doitsu not like it? Is Doitsu angry with me?"

Germany sighed, already feeling a headache coming on. "Of course I'm not angry with you." With my brother, yes.

"Then, does Doitsu like my outfit?" He jumped up and turned around, giving Germany a full-view look at the entire thing.

Germany hurriedly averted his eyes, clearing his throat nervously.

"Ve~ do you? Do you~?" He jumped on the bed, bouncing a few times from the impact and causing Germany to lose his balance slightly so he fell forward.

Almost landing right on top of the other nation.

He hurriedly caught himself, but found himself in uncomfortably close proximity.

And Italy was now staring at him with an uncharacteristically serious expression.

"Doitsu, do you like me?"

"Uh…" How in the world could he ask him just like that? He couldn't just answer a question like that all of a sudden. He'd have to think about it. And possibly get a book on the subject. "I—I—" Besides, how was he supposed to think rationally when Italy was wearing that sort of outfit and was leaning way way too close?

"Because I really like Doitsu."

Germany continued to just stare at him, his mind going a few trillion miles an hour. He couldn't concentrate. He couldn't forget that expression Italy had earlier and how it had made him feel and he could feel his body warmth right now and he couldn't think!

"Vene—Feli, I—I—" And then he did something that he never would have expected himself to do.

He reached out, grabbed Italy's arm, and pulled him into a kiss.

* * *

A/N: Huzzah! Finally!

Wow…so much awesome feedback on the last chapter… Again, awesome feedback makes me want to write more ;D Plus the fact that I'm on a writing binge right now. *sigh of happiness* It's been so long since I've been able to do this.

I'm hoping to finish this in about…two more chapters maybe? And then a SpainxRomano omake since people are oh so curious about what in the world is happening with those guys during this. ;D

To those offering to draw fanart, YES YES YES YES YES YES YES!!!! (x a couple billion) I absolutely love getting fanart for my stories! Just message/email/whatever the link to me and I'll post it on my profile for everyone else to see as well (unless you specifically ask me not to do so, of course, but sharing is always nice).

Aw, Germany, he's so oblivious when it comes to love. I find it adorable *huggles*


	12. Chapter 12

**Leugnung**

**Part 12**

For a few moments, Italy couldn't respond.

Germany was kissing him.

Germany was _kissing _him. And not just on the cheeks like he would occasionally, grudgingly agree to… No, this was a _real_ kiss.

It was slow and sweet…tentative, as if Germany was afraid of breaking him if he moved too fast. He felt arms slide around his waist and pull him closer, fingertips gently kneading the small of his back in a way that made him almost want to purr in delight.

Italy scooted even closer, wanting to feel as much of Germany against his skin as he could. His arms made their way, almost outside of his control, around the larger nation's neck, anchoring him in place against his body. This was a million times better than he'd ever imagined. And he'd imagined lots and lots and lots of different scenarios involving kissing Germany. Although none of them had involved him wearing anything like this.

They drew apart after what couldn't possibly have been near enough time together.

"Ve~ Doitsu…" Italy sighed, leaning his head against Germany's chest, a happy smile gracing his lips as he listened to the other nation's heartbeat. Which was really racing at a ridiculously fast rate.

Germany, on the other hand, was now staring down at the auburn head with an expression that quite plainly read 'what the hell did I just do?'

He had just _kissed _Italy. He hadn't even thought about it, he'd just gone and _kissed _his best friend. And the worst part was that he had enjoyed it. Immensely.

Which meant what? He still had his arms wrapped around Italy, holding his warm body up against his chest. And he really wasn't planning on letting go anytime soon.

"Doitsu does like me?"

Germany cleared his throat, his hands seeming to have a mind of their own, as they ran up and down the smaller nation's back. Italy's arms were now around his waist, hugging him tightly, his head resting against his chest. "Uh…"

"Ve~ it's okay if Germany's too nervous to say it." He suddenly looked up and Germany could swear that he had never seen a sweeter, happier, more adoring look on anyone's face before. He couldn't make himself move…or speak…or breathe… as Italy's face suddenly moved closer and then he felt a soft brush against his lips, the soft motion flitting by too quick for him to react.

"Ti amo, Doitsu."

And then Italy jumped up off the bed before he could even react, giggling softly as he crossed to the door. "I should make pasta again since Doitsu wasn't here earlier." He paused mid-step and glanced back, his expression suddenly thoughtful. "Ve~ does Doitsu like meatballs? Because nii-chan likes to steal all of the meatballs."

…How in the world could Italy tell him that he loved him and then suddenly start talking about pasta? Germany just stared at him in a daze, attempting to make his brain start working again.

Then he suddenly leapt to his feet, almost falling over at the sudden motion. Yeah, his body was still pretty much exhausted after the whole traveling around most of Europe… "Wait, Vene—I mean, Feli—"

Italy turned and tilted his head slightly, staring at him curiously. "Ve~?"

Germany stood, searching around the room desperately. Had his brother brought it in after he'd…passed out or whatever the hell happened…? He knew that he'd had it with him. He hadn't let go of it the entire time he'd been running around Europe.

There…there it was. He could see the familiar, slightly ratty plastic bag over in the corner of the room, along with his coat and cell phone and open wallet that looked suspiciously empty…

"I—I have something for you."

He hesitated as he lifted the bag into his arms and turned to face Italy, who had paused beside the door and was now watching him with bright, curious eyes.

Just hand it to him Just hand it to him Just hand it to hi— "Here." He thrust the bag into Italy's arms and hurriedly took a step back, feeling his cheeks immediately heat up nervously. "I saw it and thought of you…"

"Ve~?" Italy stared at the bag curiously for a moment and then reached inside to pull out a rather large, thick book. For a moment, he just stared at it, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"If you don't like it, then I can always take it ba—"

He was immediately tackled so hard that he almost fell right back onto the bed.

"Doitsu!! Grazie! Grazie! Grazie!" Italy stared down at the book, bouncing up and down in excitement. "Pasta!"

Germany flushed even darker and cleared his throat. "Ye—yes— I figured that you couldn't possibly know how to make all of the different types. They're from all over the world too, so I just thought you might like it." He hoped that Italy didn't know how to make 1500 types of pasta, at least. He would be even more worried about the other nation than he already was if that were the case.

Italy was staring at the pages with an expression that was probably predicting that he wasn't going to be leaving his kitchen for the next few weeks. "Ve~" He suddenly turned and threw himself into a tight hug around Germany's chest. "Grazie, Doitsu!"

Germany hesitated for a moment and then slowly wrapped his own arms around the smaller nation and tugged him a little closer. "Eh, you're welcome, Feli."

It felt so nice to hold Italy like this. He didn't want to let him go…now or ever again. But…

He suddenly pulled Italy away to arm's length and stared down into his eyes. "Feli, I—I need to tell you—" He froze again, feeling his cheeks colouring… Why was it so hard to say it?

"Ve~ yes, Doitsu?"

He closed his eyes and bit down on his tongue, forcing the words out before he could stop himself. "Ich liebe dich, Feli. I have for a long time."

Italy stared at him for a few minutes silently, not reacting. And then his expression broke into the most beautiful smile that Germany had ever seen.

And then he found his lips covered by the Italian's again and a pair of small hands pressed against the back of his head.

He gladly gave in, pulling the body tight against his own and relishing in the feeling of Feli…_his _Feli…in his arms.

When they broke apart, they were both panting slightly.

"The only thing, um, Feli," Germany suddenly remarked after a moment. "Are you planning on staying in that thing?"

Italy glanced down at himself and then back at Germany with a slightly mischievous grin. "Why~? Does Doitsu want me to?"

"Not if you don't want to…You could always…borrow it…I'm sure that Hungary and Japan wouldn't mind…"

"Ve~" Italy grinned and tugged at one of the gloves slightly. "I'm sure they wouldn't…"

* * *

A/N: Wow, that was hard to write. I haven't written a couple like these guys in a really long time. But anyway, they're so cute!! Gah!! And I see Germany as being really gentle with Italy in these sorts of situations. Probably because he's so new to the whole 'being in love' thing. And Italy's just cute and sweet and adorable and makes me want to give him a hug ;)

And I finally brought the book back in! I bet that some of you completely forgot about it! (or thought that I had, Mwahaha.)

Random Vocab:

Ti amo – I love you  
Grazie – Thank you  
Ich liebe dich – I love you

Thank you so so so so so much to those who are doing fanart! Ah! I'm so incredibly happy and feel totally unworthy. Within the next few days I'll have links up on my profile so everyone else can see your lovely lovely pictures. And thank you to everyone else who reviews/favorites/etc. It makes me really happy too to read all of your lovely comments!! A hundred reviews!! *gapes in shock* AHHH!!! INTERNET COOKIES FOR ALL OF YOU!!! I never thought this fic would get that many reviews!


	13. Chapter 13

**Leugnung**

**Part 13**

"I can't hear anything!"

"Get off of me, you bloody frog!"

"Oh, you know you love it, Angleterre…"

"Shut up! I can't hear!"

"Why the fuck are your doors so thick?"

"To keep idiots like you guys out! Apparently it didn't work."

It was rather an amusing sight to see four nations jostling each other around in an attempt to press their ears against the keyhole of one of England's guest rooms. Japan was standing off to the side, flipping through the pictures on his camera with an unreadable expression while the others used feet, elbows, and fists to push each other away.

Hungary finally managed to elbow Prussia hard enough in the stomach to get the coveted spot and peeked through quickly. "I can't _see_ anything either! Are you sure this is the right room?"

"I think I would know what room I just shut my brother and his little boy toy in."

"Maybe they aren't doing anything?" England offered.

Prussia and France both gave him looks as if the idea of _not _doing anything in a closed room with another person was entirely foreign to them. Which it probably was. "_Not _doing anything? Did you _see _Feli? If Westen hadn't come in when he did, _I _would have seized his vital regions."

"If I hadn't gotten to him first, mon ami."

"If I could get a piece of that, I would be willing to share." Prussia paused and eyed the door more lecherously now. "Hey, I wonder if Westen would be up for splitting the prize. Since this whole thing _was _orchestrated by me."

France looked offended at the statement. "You?! Non! This was _my _idea."

"This is _my _house! And I want you both out of it!" England threw in, irritably glaring at them.

"So you can have Italie all to yourself? Non."

They were so caught up in their little spat that none of them, except for Hungary, who almost fell inside the room at the motion, noticed that the door had suddenly swung open, revealing a very irritated Germany. Hungary took one look at him, grabbed Japan's arm, and ran back downstairs.

"You three are going to leave my sight before I emasculate all of you."

Which probably would have been an absolutely terrifying threat—especially with the fury that Germany was exhibiting—if Italy hadn't chosen that moment to peek out from behind him and grin at them brightly with a happy wave. "Ve~ look! Doitsu got me a book on how to make all kinds of pasta!"

Either way, England and France flashed each other a quick glance and then immediately raced off in the opposite direction. Prussia glanced back and then forward, suddenly realizing with a sinking heart that he'd just been ditched and was now facing a very, very ticked off little brother who he'd just sent on a wild goose chase across Europe.

"Uh, Westen, you aren't mad at me, are you? We were just trying to help." He was not scared. The mighty Prussia was never afraid! Especially not of little brothers…even if said little brother did happen to be significantly larger than himself. And looked as if he'd greatly enjoy shooting him right now. "The awesome me is going to go bother that pansy Austr—" He attempted to slip away—not because he was scared! He just needed to go bother Austria since he hadn't been able to do so all day and the poor guy was probably dying of lameness without his awesome presence around—but found his wrist caught in a vice-like grip that stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Oh, no, bruder. You aren't getting away that easily." Suffice to say, Germany was not happy with his brother right at that moment. He was exhausted. He had almost gotten shot by Switzerland. He'd fainted when he walked in the doorway. He'd had to put up with almost constant chirping because of that obnoxious chick. He'd gotten more dirty looks than he'd like to remember. He'd run into _Russia_. His brother was definitely going to pay.

"Hey, I took care of Feli for you, right? What if something awful had happened to him while you were in that bookstore? Besides, I've already had to deal with playing Fußball with both of the Italies and the little bastards almost broke my nose…" He flashed Italy a semi-irritated look. Although it was practically impossible to be angry with him when he was flashing him such an innocent look as he was right then.

"Why in the world did you try to play Fußball with the Italies?" Germany glanced back toward Italy, who responded with a happy "Ve~" and cuddled against his arm.

Prussia stared at his brother for a moment and then glanced over at Italy. "Well how am I supposed to know that they're apparently secretly Fußball -playing demons?"

"I would think that Spain would know." Which actually reminded him… Germany frowned, glancing around curiously. "Wait, where is Spain?" If France was also involved with Prussia's plan, then shouldn't Spain be here too?

Prussia's usually mischievous grin immediately broke over his face at that question. "Tonio? Oh, we locked him into one of the guest rooms with Romano to keep the other Fußball -playing demon distracted. Judging by the lack of cursing coming from that room, I'd say that he's doing a fine job of it. Which means that I should go interrupt them!" He suddenly broke free of Germany's grip, which had relaxed as he'd just gaped in amazement at his brother, and ran down the hallway, cackling maniacally to himself.

Germany sighed and rubbed at his forehead, a migraine already beginning. He knew that it wasn't worth it. No matter if he _did _think of some way to make his brother pay for all of that mess, he'd still end up doing something equally as stupid next week.

He glanced back at Italy, who was now clinging to his free arm and resting his head against his side. And he _had _gotten something very nice out of all of this.

So he guessed he could forgive his brother this time.

Besides, judging from the sudden screeching in Italian from down the hall and the crash of something breakable against something hard, he'd probably be nursing a nasty head wound tomorrow anyway.

"Ve~ should we go help Prussia-nii?" Italy questioned, glancing up at him from under his shoulder.

Germany thought for a moment, listening to the screaming in Italian, the cackling from his brother, the sound of more probably-expensive things breaking, attempts in Spanish to calm the furious Italian, and now also pounding from downstairs and obscenities from England screaming about breaking his 9th century pottery.

"Nein, let's just go to bed, Feli."

Italy immediately smiled, throwing his arms around Germany's waist. "Ve~ all right, Doitsu. Ti amo!"

Germany ruffled his hand through the Italian's hair and smiled back. "Ich liebe dich, Feli."

* * *

A/N: Awww, the cuteness. I love this couple. They give me diabetes with how cute they are. And that is the end of the main storyline. Next chapter will be a SpainxRomano omake.

And Prussia, I understand your pain, Prussia. My little brothers are both bigger than me now, and my nine-year-old sister is already wearing the same size shirts as I am, which probably means that she's gonna end up bigger than me too…

In other news, I find it hilarious how I keep having dreams about the Hetalia characters…mainly because my subconscious seems to be convinced that Lovi would make a ridiculously adorable girl as it randomly genderflips him in almost any dream. xD I'm sorry, Lovi! But you're just too cute as a girl! Maybe someday I'll write one of them down… ;D

All righty, so I have edited my profile (finally). Go check it out! I have some info about future stories (tell me which you'd like me to do!), various info about my writing schedule in the next few months, and…most importantly…

FANART!!! I am so so so so so happy about the beautiful art that I've gotten! Go and check it out and show them much love X3

Thank you so much for all the reviews, as well. I am absolutely shocked and THRILLED with the wonderful reviews that I've received on this story. Especially by the sheer number of them!


	14. Omake

A/N: Quick warning. This chapter is a bit more mature than previous chapters…and it's SpainxRomano. Just warning you…Not M level, but higher than usual. Not necessary to understand the rest of the story. So, yes… Continue if you so desire :) (Also, sorry for the reupload. I didn't change anything except the formatting...My OCD was driving me absolutely insane about it though)

* * *

**Leugnung**

**Omake**

Romano had finally quieted.

This could either be a good or bad sign. It could firstly mean that he had finally managed to gain control of his temper, which Spain found rather hard to believe, or it could mean that he was just taking a breather and would soon start throwing stuff at the door and/or him.

Really, at moments like this, he had no idea why he was still friends with Prussia. Of course he loved Lovi and wouldn't mind being locked in a room with him for an indeterminate amount of time in most situations, but being locked in a room with a homicidal Lovi was another matter entirely.

"Lovi?" he finally decided to venture, slowly standing and walking over to where Romano was standing, stabbing the buttons of his phone furiously to type out some note. Probably to Prussia. Probably threatening bodily harm.

He finished and then turned, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared up at him. "What, bastard?" Well, he sounded angry, but at least he wasn't throwing anything or attempting to injure him in any other way.

Which he took as a good sign. It really had been much too long since he'd had a chance to be alone with Romano. They'd both been so busy with their jobs as nations that they hadn't had much personal free time. Spain sighed and then slowly slid his arms around the smaller male's waist, nuzzling his nose into the auburn hair and breathing Romano's scent in deeply without answering. It felt so nice to hold him like this. They fit together so perfectly, like they'd been made to be together. And it was even better when Romano wasn't pushing him away immediately like he used to.

Romano didn't visibly react to his administrations, although he could feel that he was much more relaxed than usual. He even gave a soft sigh after a moment before moving backwards and attempting, but failing, to replace his usual irritated expression. "All right, now tell me what you guys are up to?"

"Up to, Lovi~?" Spain questioned back, rather disappointed that he'd moved away so soon. Lovi was slowly growing more receptive to his romantic advances, but they still definitely weren't at the level that Spain would like them to be.

Although that probably could partly be blamed on the fact that he would like them to be at the level where it would be entirely okay for him to suddenly grab Lovi right now, throw him across the bed, and have his way with him.

Which really was an incredibly tempting idea. If he hadn't known that it would most likely just lead to him lying on the ground, about to have his head broken in with a lamp.

"Answer my question, bastard!"

And he should probably not be thinking about when Romano was in the room and only a few levels of irritation away from busting his head in without him making any inappropriate moves.

"I'm not up to anything, Lovi."

Romano crossed his arms over his chest and continued to glare at him, obviously not believing him. "You want me to believe that you, Prussia, France, Hungary, and Japan are at England's house with my brother for no reason whatsoever? I'm not that stupid."

"Of course not, Lovi~!" Spain looked horrified at the idea.

"Then what the fuck is going on here?"

And herein lay the dilemma. Whether Lovi would be angrier if he refused to tell him what he wanted to know, or if he told him that they were trying to set his brother up with Germany…

Why had they given this job to _him_? They knew that he couldn't refuse Lovi anything. And he'd tried. Many times…

"We—promise me that you won't get angry with me, Lovi?"

Romano's eyes narrowed suspiciously at the request. "What did you do?"

"Promise me?" He doubted that a promise would actually do anything, but you never knew.

"Fine, I promise, damn it. Now tell me what you're doing."

Spain sighed, offering a quick prayer upwards. "We—we're trying to set Feli up with Ludwig."

For a moment, there was complete silence from Romano and Spain hesitantly allowed himself to hope that he was actually going to keep his promise.

Yeah right.

"WHAT?!?!!? WHAT THE FUCK!?!?!?!" His entire body was twitching, particularly his fingers, which kept curling and uncurling into fists. "You…my brother…with the potato bastard…" And then he was back at the door, kicking and pounding his fists against the wood. "YOU KEEP YOUR FILTHY POTATOEY HANDS OFF MY LITTLE BROTHER!!!!!!! DAMN IT, PRUSSIA!!!!!!!!!!! I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU!!!!!!!!! UNLOCK THIS FUCKING DOOR!!!!!"

Spain nervously watched for a few minutes. If he waited until Romano began to tire, then he could attempt to calm him without getting injured himself. The poor door was pretty much a goner.

It took quite a while, but eventually Romano's kicks and punches began to slow and slam against the wood with less intensity.

And the door was still standing. He was impressed. Apparently England had pretty strong doors.

After another few seconds, Spain slowly stood and crossed the space between them before wrapping his arms around Romano's body and resting his head against the smaller nation's back. "You're so cute, Lovi~"

"What the— Get off me, bastard! You're part of this!" Romano attempted to kick him backwards in the shins, but Spain managed to dodge the blow. You had to gain fast reflexes if you were going to be around Romano for any extended length of time.

"It's so cute that you care so much about your little brother~"

"Wha—what? I do not care about that idiot!" This time he did manage to kick Spain's shin. Thankfully not as hard as he was capable of, but still hard enough that he'd end up having a bruise there tomorrow. "I just don't like that potato bastard!"

"Of course, Lovi." He continued to nuzzle the nation's shoulder blade and, when he didn't immediately break away, took that as encouragement to continue. He pulled Romano back against his body and started to gently brush his lips against his neck. "Te amo."

For a few seconds, Romano didn't answer. Then he sighed and glanced up at him so he could see his face. His lips were quivering, his eyes were bright with unshed tears. "Do you really, Spagna?"

For a moment, Spain was shocked speechless by the utter adorableness of the statement and expression. Then he immediately began covering every inch of skin that he could see with kisses. "Te amo, Lovi. Te amo. Te amo!"

"But, Spagna, if you really loved me then YOU WOULDN'T HELP THAT POTATO BASTARD!!!" He immediately broke away, leaving a slightly deaf Spain to stare at the space he'd just left in shock, and stomped to the bed. Then he threw himself onto the sheets, crossed his arms defiantly over his chest, and flashed him a furious glare.

"Ah, Lovi~!" Ow…that had actually hurt. His ears were ringing now. "You said that you wouldn't be angry."

"That was before I knew that you were helping the potato bastard get into my little brother's pants."

"Now, I'm quite sure that he isn't trying to get into your brother's pants…" Maybe… He actually couldn't be entirely sure of that. The guy did have some rather interesting fetishes. Plus he'd been brought up by Prussia… He doubted that anyone could live with Prussia for an extended amount of time and not be at least slightly tainted.

Anyway, he'd prefer not to think about Germany's sex life right now. Particularly not when Lovi was sitting on a bed, in a locked room, looking absolutely ravishable.

"Besides, Lovi, you want your brother to be happy, right?" He moved slightly closer, ready to duck if Romano threw something at him. So far, so good.

"As long as being happy doesn't involve any potato bastards."

"Lovi~" He sat down on the bed beside him and wrapped his arm around Romano's waist, tugging him so their sides were pressed together. "You aren't being very fair."

Romano just flashed him a look that quite plainly read 'So? Since when do I have to be fair?'

Spain occasionally wondered just why he'd fallen so hard for someone who was so incredibly difficult to deal with. This happened to be one of those times. He sighed softly and then slipped his hand into the soft auburn strands that covered Romano's head and gave a slight tug on a handful. "Your brother would have been so much easier to deal with," he sighed.

He immediately received an incredibly sharp elbow hard in his side. That would also be leaving a bruise tomorrow. "Don't talk about my idiot brother."

Ow... "But he would have been," he whined. "He doesn't hit or kick people and he'd make food for me if I asked him to and…Ow! Lovi~!"

"I said quit it." Now Romano was glaring at him with an almost…hurt expression. "I'm better than my idiot brother at lots of things! I can—I can—" He hesitated for a long moment, his anger starting to falter as he searched his mind for just one thing that he could do better than his brother.

Spain noticed, startled by the sudden saddened expression that crossed over his Lovi's face. He immediately leaned down and pressed his mouth against the downturned lips, drawing back slightly after a moment to murmur softly, "But then again, I think that's part of what I like so much about you, Lovi. You're much more interesting than your brother."

Romano looked slightly happier at that statement. "Hm? Really?"

"Oh, yes." He kissed along his jaw line now, feeling Romano's hands move to his shirt and grip tightly at the fabric. His own fingers slid down the front of Lovi's chest and began to carefully unbutton the shirt from the bottom. "I'd say that you're much more interesting than Feli. And a million times more attractive." Note to self, buy Lovi shirts without so many damned buttons. It was too hard to undo them all when you're simultaneously attempting to leave as many love bites on his neck as possible.

Romano solved said problem for him, as he'd apparently decided that he was taking too long to undo them. Spain suddenly found his fingers pushed out of the way and then Romano tugged hard at the fabric, causing the buttons to break off and scatter across the bed and floor.

England would be thrilled at that.

"You're too slow, bastard." Romano was now smirking slightly, his amber eyes narrowed with amusement and more than a hint of lust. "Horny bastard. You've been eyeing me since that Prussian bastard locked us in here." He scooted forward a tiny bit so he was resting between Spain's knees. "Tell me how much better I am than my brother."

This could be very useful information for the future. Spain wrapped his arms around the other nation's back, beginning to slip the loosened shirt from his shoulders. "Well…" Damn it, it was hard to think when he was being stared at by those heated eyes… "You're more attractive and…smarter…and…" He was cut off by a pair of lips against his and a set of arms that slid around his neck in order to bring them closer.

And a better kisser, he bet. A tongue invaded his mouth and they battled for dominance for a while, Romano's fingers tugging at his hair as his own ran along the bare chest almost pressed against his own.

And then his cell phone started to ring.

Spain was not usually a violent person—the doors that he'd splintered with his conquistador war ax didn't count, as they'd been standing between him and his Lovi. He usually held no feelings of hatred or homicidal rage toward anyone or anything.

However, there were certain times when harbouring said feelings of rage and desire to kill were entirely understandable.

Having your phone ring when you were in the middle of making out with the person you had been pursuing for the past few centuries was one of them.

It startled both of them apart, Romano looking dazed enough to not even realize what in the world was going on.

Spain groaned irritably, half wanting to just take the phone out and chuck it across the room. Although he recognized the ring tone. His boss…

"Ah, just a minute…" He slid his hand into his pocket and pulled the object out, glaring at it furiously. Stupid boss. Of course he had to have such ridiculous timing…

Romano stared at the phone for a few moments, as if he wasn't entirely sure what it was, and then his expression slipped into irritation. "Just ignore it, bastard."

"I can't. It's my boss." He started to open it and then found the screen snapped shut, a pair of amber eyes glaring at him furiously… Shit, Lovi looked even hotter than usual. His eyes flickered back to the name "Boss" flashing across the screen.

It could quite possibly be a national emergency or something important like that. His capitol could be under attack…

And then Romano's lips were back at his, biting at his bottom lip as if punishing him for even considering that a national emergency could ever be more important than he was.

Spain sighed, dropping the phone onto the bed and moving into the kiss. His boss could handle whatever it was on his own.

"Ah, Lovi…" Romano was now returning the favour by working on his shirt; he could feel him fumbling with the slippery pieces of plastic, the movements growing less accurate as they fought with their mouths for dominance. Spain sighed, sliding his own fingers down to Romano's belt loops, starting to pull at his belt.

And then his fucking phone rang again.

He couldn't hurt his boss. He also couldn't yell at his boss.

Romano, apparently, figured that he could, however, as he suddenly reached over, grabbed the phone, and lifted it to his ear, his expression clearly murderous. "Would you leave us the fuck alone! Spagna is fucking busy you piece of shi—"

It had taken Spain a moment to realize what had happened. However, now he squeaked in panic and grabbed the device out of his former charge's hand, pressing his hand over his mouth to muffle the sling of profanities that were forming on his lips.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"España!"

"Lo siento! Lo siento!" Spain knew that he was going to be hearing about this at the next meeting with his boss. Probably for a few hours. At high volume.

"What is going on, España? Wasn't that…" There was a short pause as his boss attempted to remember which country the voice belonged to.

Really, by now he should know. "Italia."

"El sur de Italia?"

Eh, better than his last boss. At least this one remembered that there were two of them. And apparently also remembered which part of Italy had the filthy mouth. "Sí."

And then he yelped when said country suddenly leaned down and bit on the side of his neck. Causing him to drop the phone in the process.

Which Romano had apparently been expecting, as he immediately snatched it up and remarked, surprisingly calmly for him. "Look, Spagna can't talk right now. I'm about to fuck him until he can't stand, okay? He'll call you back later." There was a short pause as Spain just stared at him in horror—well, kind of horror…a mixture of horror at the thought that he'd just said that to his _boss_ and extreme arousal at the actual words. Then Romano grinned, the smile eerily reminiscent of his expression while on the football field and he continued, "Oh yes, it's quite possible…Mhm… Oh, don't worry. I'll be gentle." Then he snapped the phone closed, tossing it casually back to Spain with a content grin.

Spain stared down at the plastic object for a few minutes before he sighed and picked it up, snapping it open and flipping through his contacts until he came to Prussia's number. He probably should be upset about this. "You probably just scarred my boss for life." Instead he hurriedly began to type out a short message to the ex-nation before hitting the send button and turning the rather irritating piece of technology off.

Romano was still grinning, looking rather supremely pleased with himself. "Good. That'll teach him to take the hint the first time."

Yes, he really should be much more irritated with the other nation right now. But he looked so incredibly hot right now and he honestly couldn't bring himself to care that his boss was probably now attempting to drink himself into oblivion to forget what he'd just heard. Some bosses found it rather hard to accept the fact that nations had the same abilities and desires that humans had…

He just sighed and shook his head slightly, reaching behind Romano's back and pulling them against each other again. "There's something else that I'm sure you're better than your brother at." Lovi really was incredibly beautiful, he thought vaguely as the other nation smirked up at him. Especially when he looked so pleased with himself. He really liked to see his Lovi smile, even if it was because he had just told off one of the most important people in the world.

"Mm, and what is it?"

"I'm quite sure that you're much better in bed."

Romano paused for a moment, just staring at him in slight surprise. Then his grin widened predatorily and he leaned onto his chest, his eyes glinting evilly. "You're probably right. Should I prove it?"

Spain laughed and pulled him down into a bruising kiss, grinning to himself. "Oh, please do…"

**OWARI**

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**A/N: And I shall stop there. Mwahahaha. Ummmmm…yeah, I have no idea……Poor boss. That was…I don't even know what that was… I can't decide how I feel about it…except that it was ridiculously hard to write. *sighs and rubs sweat from forehead* BUT IT IS FINISHED!!! *does a happy dance*

Thank you uberly much for all of the love you've sent me on this story. As I've said before, I am absolutely ecstatic at the sheer amount of reviews and favourites and fanart and EVERYTHING! that I've gotten. You guys are all awesome *sends internet huggles*

And I already know exactly what you guys want to know now. What's next, ?

Well, I am planning on continuing this series of The Most Awesome Matchmaking Trio Ever! (which I've shortened to be the TMAMT series…which is a palindrome…and so is my name, so it makes me happy ;D) The next one will be USxUK, mostly as I've already gotten requests for it. However, I would not be adverse to changing my mind, as I do already have the first chapter written out for that story, my Gakuen Hetalia AU, and the SpainxRomano AU. So if I get a lot of requests for one of those instead of the USxUK one, I would be willing to change my mind. (See my profile fanfic section if you're wondering what in the world I'm talking about, lol)

Also, if you haven't noticed already, I decided to also (because I think I'm getting addicted to writing these) write out a short multi-chap gender!flipped SpainxRomano story, as it's been requested that I write down my dreams with my fem!Lovi. So read that too if you'd like. I rather enjoy it, lol.

And with that, I bid you all adieu for now. I shall probably post the first chapter of my next long story once I arrive in London.


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